Page 85 of Sinners Reunion

Blayne turns on the charm full blast when he sees King coming toward him. He acts as if he means to throw him the ball, which fakes King out. He flinches, looking like an ass. Blayne tosses the ball to Ice Pick before jogging over to King, guffawing the entire way.

What a prick.

I’m disgusted with myself for ever flirting with that big-nosed butt chin with a dick-sucking haircut.

Whoa. Where the fuck did that come from?

Am I that pissed he embarrassed King? It wasn’t as if anyone but me and Ice Pick saw him look foolish for less than two seconds, yet it set off a chain reaction of rage in my blood.

I’ve got to be more careful. The chinks in my armor are becoming gaping holes.

Ice Pick doesn’t see me moving toward him. He’s too concerned with catching up to Blayne. I raise my hand and give my fingers a wiggle. He spots me and adjusts course, heading toward me without a second glance toward his friend.

“Good job, ladies,” I whisper to my tatas.

Ice Pick comes to a stop in front of me. He puts his finger in the air, then leans over and places his hands on his knees. His bald head glistens, and sweat darkens his gray sleeveless shirt. After a few heaving breaths, he stands upright. Dude is winded after walking fifty yards.

“What can I do you for?” he asks.

Probably no less than fifty grand.

He raises his soaked shirt to dry his forehead, then realizes it’s pointless. “It’s hot out here, ain’t it? Drier than a cat’s crusty asshole, too. My side of Texas ain’t like this. I was feeling a little cooped up in the RV, but now I think that’s better than roasting to death out here.”

I see my opening, and I seize it. “Instead of hanging out all alone at your place, why don’t you come by mine tonight?”

“Oh, I’m not all alone. Blayne hasn’t left my side since the whole Charity—” His throat hitches. His face shows no shift in emotion, but he can’t get out the next word. “Blayne’s been helping me sort through some things.”

My asshole puckers because this doesn’t sound good at all. “What sort of things?”

“Well, God blessed me in the looks department, and I’m a lot smarter than people think I am, but I’m not any good when it comes to studying people. I have trouble figuring out what folks are thinking. But Blayne’s real good at that stuff. He reads people like books, and then he tells me what he sees.”

I just bet he does.

“So would you want to come to dinner?” I ask him. I need to get his mind off Blayne. I can delve more into this line of questioning once I have King as backup.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says.

Shit. I’m losing him.

As he starts to turn toward Blayne, I take his hand and do something I’m certain I’ll regret later. I stroke it. Not too sensually, just enough to snatch his head back toward me.

“Hey now,” he says with a nervous chuckle. “I don’t think King would like you touching me like that.”

That’s when another idea strikes me. One I’m sure I’ll regret far more than a simple stroke of his hand, but as King would say, needs must. I just have to hope King sees it the same way. Otherwise, my road trip might end tonight.

Chapter Twenty-Six

King

There is no way in hell I’ve heard the girl correctly. I damn near ask her to repeat herself, but I don’t want to give her another opening for an old-man joke. I’ll just assume I’ve been hit by a bus and that this is some weird vision my mind has conjured in my dying moments. That would be far preferable to what she’s suggesting.

“A threesome. With Ice Pick,” I say. “I think the fuck not.”

“We don’t actually have to go through with it,” she says with a nonchalant roll of her hand through the air. “This was just to get him alone in the RV. It was the only way to get him alone. He won’t bring Blayne if he thinks he’s getting laid.”

“So how do you propose we avoid receiving all three inches of his glory? Hmm?”

“He’ll show up, we’ll ply him with some alcohol, and then we’ll get him talking. Hopefully he loses interest once we get him on a sad subject, but my headache can get us out of it if need be.”